That Which is Given
by Tomas the Betrayer
Summary: What is given can be taken away. Left to a demon's devisings, Doll struggles for any hope she can find in the depths of Phantomhive Manor.


It was dark here. Not just that you couldn't see, which would have been bad enough. It _was_ dark. The place she found herself in had no end, comprised of an oppressive lightless gloom. There was nothing to be found. Nowhere to walk or even run to. Just blackness, everywhere and forever.

I'm dead, she realized. And this must be hell.

Doll had never wondered what hell would be like. Living was bad enough to make it seem unlikely anywhere worse could possibly exist. Pain, cold, terror, humiliation, cruelty; these were all familiar things and held no degree of mystery. They were known to her, and therefore lacking that dread of the undefined.

Loneliness, however… she had never quite grown accustomed to that. There had always been people around, whether for good or ill. Doll needed that comfort which came from knowing another living soul was only an arm's-length away. When her birth family discarded her she found solace living with others similarly dispossessed on the street. Being together made it bearable.

Which was why she knew this must be hell. Nobody around to see her. No one to cry out to. Trapped in this empty nowhere… there could be no worse punishment for Doll.

"What's my crime?!" she screamed out. "What's my sin? Tell me, I wan'ta know!"

Not even an echo. Looking down, the grieving girl stared at her hands. She was the only thing visible here, and even that looked strange. It had taken her a while to realize why. It was because there were no shadows. Not even on her body or in the folds of her clothes; everything could be seen. The only darkness was what lay all around her. A floor didn't exist. She simply hung in empty space. As an experiment she had once taken a handkerchief from her pack and dropped it in front of her. The moment it left her hand the cloth simply vanished. Doll had snatched where she thought it must be only to find nothing. She was much too scared to try something like that again.

This was what awaited her. An eternity of loneliness. Not even cold or hellfire. Just the one thing she hated most of all. Being utterly isolated.

"Please, God," she mumbled, hunched in on herself and face buried in her knees. "Please help me. I'm sorry fer what we done, bein' kidnappers, and everythin'… please fergive me. M'sorry. So, so sorr–"

Light shone down on her.

Doll looked up, blinking in disbelief. Out of the dark there now blazed what looked like a doorway, so very close to her. Petrified, she stared at this unexpected salvation. Did that work? Have I repented my sins after all this time?

From the light a white hand emerged, held out to her like a promise of hope and salvation. The prospect of release was in it. Doll practically dove for this offering, reaching out to clutch it with both hands. Shaking, she felt herself drawn forward, into the light, sound and smell assaulting her and she was crying, with joy, with relief, with heartache and hope as the sick feeling of loneliness passed away. She entered heaven.

The one-time acrobat fell to her knees still gripping her savior's hand. At first her eye didn't seem to be working properly; everything it sent back at her was bizarre and threatening. Only after panting and gasping for several seconds did the surroundings slowly begin to settle and become recognizable. Those lines and colors… they were walls. She was in a small room. A low cot took up most of the space before her with a bedside table and lamp nearby. Wedged into one corner was a writing desk; these were all familiar things, and she wanted to weep. How could anything so commonplace be so utterly wonderful?

"There we are."

The voice took away all such comfort. Mere moments ago, Doll would have given anything to hear another human speak. Absolutely any voice meant transcendent joy.

Any voice… except this one.

Her head came up, to find she was holding the hand of the butler Black.

She remembered how her life had ended…

 _Fire engulfed the manor house, eating away at stone and cloth, hellish heat consuming the flesh of the corpses within._

" _I won't…"_

 _Joker was in there. What was left of him. Dead, gone, killed by…_

"… _fergive you…"_

… _the ones standing before her. The black butler in his tailcoat, and clasped protectively in his arms was…_

" _SMILE!"_

… _her friend. Only a thief, she had thought, and now clearly far worse. The boy's face held nothing but disdain. Without the eyepatch, he was revealed to have a damaged eye just like hers, pale gray with no visible pupil and ringed by thin white scratches._

 _She lunged forward with dagger clenched in both hands, mad with grief, crying out at their cruelty and that of the whole world. I hate you! You bastard, Smile, or Ciel Phantomhive, whoever you are, I hate all of you!_

 _As she bore down on them, that sickly eye socket seemed to flare, and from Smile's lips came a single word._

" _Sebastian."_

 _A rustling similar to tent canvas, the heat from the blaze disappearing in an instant as the night itself rose all around her like the jaws of some hungry beast. It snapped her up, leaving no trace but a small candy falling to the ground._

… and now the nightmare had entered its next performance.

Doll tore her hand free, scrabbling backward so fast she cracked her head against the wall. The pain made her groan, and she clutched it desperately, trying to force down that throbbing ache.

Black (or Sebastian, that's what Smile… Phantomhive had called him) stood watching her calmly. He still wore the fancy outfit she first remembered seeing him in. Clutched in one white-gloved hand was a small book. Reaching out Sebastian slowly closed the door of a cabinet right beside him.

"We have a great deal to cover, and it would be best to start straight away." Having said this, the lanky butler moved to the desk and pulled out its seat. "I have procured a copy of _Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management._ If you will kindly–"

As he spoke Doll leapt up and lunged for the door handle, yanking it open and…

The door slammed shut, dragging her with it. Black stood behind her now, gazing down as though she were a stubborn stain on a rug. With a desperate scream Doll swung her heavy satchel at his head. Before it could connect he caught her wrist, thwarting any such attempt and causing the pack to go flying. Then the butler was dragging her across the floor kicking and biting, saying not a word as he flung open the cabinet again. The empty wooden frame loomed before them.

Doll drew breath to shout for help. Too late, he thrust her into the wardrobe and shut the door.

And just like that, she was back in the darkness.

Shocked, she could only stand there numbly for a few seconds, uncertain what just happened. Did I imagine that?

A sore shoulder and the missing pack told her no. I was out, I had a chance, and then he…

Doll screamed, loud, frantic and half-mad with despair. She spun about desperately. "PLEASE!" the girl wailed. "Lemme out! Don't leave me here, PLEASE!" In terror she tried to find the outline of a door, but only the emptiness greeted her. There were wooden walls and a floor, weren't there?! She had seen it for herself, just inches away! But when she tried to reach out and touch them, nothing came to hand.

"No…"

Suddenly exhausted, the prisoner caved in on herself. She sprawled in the empty hell, regretting her mistakes, replaying her actions and what she could have done differently. I should have hit him in the head first, the moment he turned away. There must have been something close at hand that would have done the job. Why didn't I think of that?

Because I wanted out. Nothing else mattered. I had to get away from that… murderer.

I missed my chance.

But if he let me out once, maybe… he'll do it again?

This thought was the only thing that gave her any comfort while she lay unmoving in the lightless void.

* * *

There was no means to measure time here. She never felt hungry. Even sleep didn't come. It might have been minutes or days since that all-too-brief episode happened. Doll was left with no means of escape and no idea what to do next.

During this time, the determined prisoner thought about what she would do if… no, when he let her out again. At first Doll tried to convince herself fighting was the only option. Once he brought her out, she would immediately hit him in the crotch. No man could take that. Then while he was stunned…

Her imagination failed her. She was no fighter. Not like Beast or even Peter and Wendy had been. What could she do? It was this that led her down a completely different track. Clearly he was keeping her alive for a reason. Whatever it was might be more horrible than anything seen so far, but… could it be worse than this? Left all alone and forgotten?

I'm alive. This isn't hell. Whatever it is, I can leave here. After that it's just a matter of getting away. I can find the others, Beast and Dagger, Snake; they'll help me. I just have to wait for another opportunity, when his guard is down, and–

The door opened. Light returned, and with it that hand held out for her.

Yes! Oh God, YES!

Once more she snatched at this salvation, letting it draw her weeping into the real world. Her knees scuffed over the wooden floor, and she crumpled to that cool solid surface as though it were the plushest of feather beds.

"…an-ke," Doll found herself mumbling, all pride or planning forgotten in this heaven-sent moment of freedom. "Thank'ye…"

"I see you are more kindly disposed today. Splendid!" the butler spoke from above her. His tone then took on a measure of rebuke. "But a lady mustn't sprawl on the floor in so disgraceful a manner. So then…" He took a few steps away from her and clapped his spotless white gloves together. "Stand up, now."

After a few seconds, some measure of self-awareness came back and she did as commanded. Doll got to her feet, getting a feel for how her body worked again. The traveling clothes she wore felt rough and bulky, a sensation which had not presented itself to her in the other world. For his part Sebastian had not changed in the slightest that she could tell. He was dressed in the fancy apparel that designated him as a high-class servant; top-coat and vest, pinstriped pants, all black, of course. His long messy hair was the color of coal, complete with a sort of dull luster. Undeniably handsome, some might even say beautiful. Tall and slender, the head of staff examined his prize with a small smile, one finger to his chin in deliberation.

"Of course something will have to be done about the clothes," that darkling figure murmured almost to himself. "We shan't be calling upon Madame Hopkins; there will be no talk of haute couture, I'm afraid, so you will have to settle for my own amateur efforts. I blame myself. There simply wasn't an imperative before, and now that I have the time it is too late. Still, for the nonce we will simply make do. So…!"

He then moved past her. A small ornate wooden table with a single chair now occupied what little space was left in this room. Arrayed upon it was a bone china tea set of a quality even she could tell surpassed that which Baron Kelvin had delighted in using. The blue painted designs were so very intricate, showing some mystical far-off land with mountains and strange animals.

Sebastian pulled the seat out and stood beside it with a smile, clearly indicating she was meant to occupy this spot.

"Let us start with the most essential element of any modern British social gathering: tea!"

At first Doll merely gaped at him, uncertain of whether or not he was serious. Her eye strayed over to the door leading out of here. Its promise of freedom was so strong it made her feel dizzy. But she was not stupid enough to repeat the same mistake as before. Mastering herself, the young woman moved cautiously forward and sat where indicated.

"At its most basic a tea set, or tête-à-tête, consists of the teapot, sugar bowl, and a pitcher for cream or milk." He pointed these out to her on the table. "Have a care, they are some of the household's most prized examples." Steam rose from the teapot's cheerful spout, lending the air an aura of tranquility. A small silver spoon rested on the sugar bowl's rim.

"Of course, there is more to it than that," Sebastian continued, bending down near her. Doll flinched at his close proximity. He seemingly took no notice of this, merely prattling on. "One also must include the option of lemon, depending on the tea. And no teatime would be complete without something to nibble on!" His hand indicated a small dish with a ring of thinly sliced lemons near which was another plate piled with biscuits.

Doll stared at all this.

What is going on?

"Our modern concept of teatime was introduced only this century by the current Duchess of Bedford. In that short space it has evolved into a highly intricate and complicated ritual rivaling those performed in the Far East. As with anything truly important, the order in which events proceed is of paramount necessity! For example, the tea itself: first add sugar, then lemon, followed by milk. There is the diner's personal preference to consider, but regardless, the order of these condiments is never varied. Milk must not be added before sugar, of that you can be certain."

"What are ye doin'?" she whispered, turning her head to look at him.

Sebastian flicked a glance in her direction. "Try and keep up, I detest repeating myself. Refreshments are served in the order of savory, then scones, then sweets. Regardless of what you may have seen or heard, it is the height of rudeness to dunk one's treat into the teacup. Moving on we have…"

Hands clenched in her lap, she watched his long elegant fingers point out the details in turn. Her mouth had gone dry, and she could feel her heartbeat laboring horribly. The absurdity of it all became more apparent with every word out of his mouth, such that she was finding it impossible to concentrate.

"… lady does not blow upon her tea to cool it. Instead we add…"

This man's mad. He's gone round the bend.

"…move the teaspoon back and forth to stir its contents, making sure we do not encounter the sides or rim. When finished it lies in your saucer in the same direction as the teacup's handle. …"

Doll could feel panic starting to set in. Her breath came ever faster and higher, and she shook uncontrollably. I'm going mad too. Oh God, I'm going mad, I can feel it, _I'm…!_

"And now you try."

She blinked. Before her in a china cup there now steamed an aromatic and rich blend of dark brown tea.

"Pick it up," the butler instructed softly.

Nothing at first.

Then, as carefully as though it were a serpent that might bite her, she obeyed, reaching up to grasp the handle.

"Saucer goes with the cup, as I explained." There was a note of warning in his voice. Dutifully Doll lifted everything, dish and all.

"Yes, that's good. Index finger up to the knuckle, thumb on top, bottom of the handle on middle finger…"

Doll did as instructed. At last the cup rose off the plate. It did not shake in the slightest.

"Well done. And now…"

She stared at her reflection in the surface of the tea.

"…sip."

She did so, bringing the cup to her lips and taking the smallest possible sip. The taste of it filled her mouth, and Doll closed her eye with a sigh.

Then she flung the steaming hot contents full in his face.

She had expected him to scream. But he didn't. And for some reason, this prevented her from proceeding with the next stage of her plan, which was to pick up the teapot and smash it over his head. Doll merely stared in horror at her captor's pale, dripping face.

He frowned, in a way that made her insides quail. Reaching down Sebastian removed the cup and saucer from her unresisting grip and placed them back on the table. After this he took her by the shoulders, moving her out of the seat. Doll remained too shocked to fight back. Only when he began to march her towards the ominous dresser did a surge of true panic get things working inside her head.

"Wha's goin' on, please, I don't–!"

He wrenched the wooden box open and shoved her inside.

Lost in the empty space again, Doll just stared straight ahead for the longest time.

* * *

What does he want?

This was the question that preyed on her mind now. Almost as much as she plotted her escape. All too often in the midst of formulating plans she found her thoughts drifting back towards this one insolvable mystery.

What does Black want with me?

She knew him for a killer. He murdered Big Brother and Father, that much was certain. So why hadn't he done the same to her?

Is he keeping me as bait for the others? That still doesn't explain any of this. It was wrong to give her nothing. No horizon or sky, no earth, maybe not even air! She couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. Hurt me if you have to but don't just… take it all away! Like I'm some kid who misbehaved and so you took my toys from me! I didn't do anything _that_ wrong, did I? Why can't I have something? _Any_ thing?!

By now it was apparent something otherworldly was taking place. This prison, for starters; if it was all some measure of infernal punishment, then why bring her back into the world? Did Black control it somehow, or was he just an agent, acting on his superior's orders? The butler served Earl Phantomhive and so the one in charge could very well be Sm… no, make that Ciel (stop thinking of them like that). Did he have something in mind for her? Could Sebastian be acting on some design of the Earl's?

Beast had warned her repeatedly about strange men and their… designs. Wendy and Peter especially were insistent she not expose herself to such characters. They thought she was still a naïve little girl; ironic, considering their own states. But it was partly because of their eternal childhood that they seemed to have a good idea what went on in that respect. Doll had never really wanted to know what sort of bad experiences her youthful Brother and Sister might have gone through before she met them. Just bringing it up seemed to make them angry. It was scary, really.

Now the same thing could happen to me. Maybe that's what the Earl wants me alive for.

Entertainment.

That would explain it. This could be all some sort of preparation before the show. She would be expected to play a part in their little performance. But then, when the playtime was over… no more children's games.

I don't want that. Never. It would be best to die first.

Death…

Doll hugged herself miserably. She should be thinking about more than her own wellbeing. What about her family in Noah's Ark Circus? They might not know about Joker yet. Or maybe they were looking for her even now? Perhaps they would storm this place… wherever it is. If so, she would have to stay alive long enough to be rescued, or to save them from getting caught too.

That means I have to give the butler what he wants. Serve his needs.

The thought made her ill.

Why is this happening to me?

* * *

This time when the butler drew her out, Doll found her feet almost instantly. Without letting go of his hand she looked him squarely in the eye and said, "Tell me what ye want me t'do."

He beamed at this. "You are in for a treat today." Releasing her, Sebastian indicated towards the bed.

Doll went cold, and she almost screamed in loathing at finding her fears be confirmed. However in that brief second she saw a splash of color which looked to be out of place. It was then she realized there was a dress laid out on the cot.

Bewildered, the girl glanced uncertainly between this and her eerily smiling captor. At his continued silent encouragement she moved closer to inspect the garment. It was a lady's dress, the type worn by posh gentry folk. Made of a bright orange fabric, there were bows and ruffles all over the place, with a big flaring skirt three times the width of her waist. A single white rose adorned the front of the bodice, which was held up by straps, and there were no arms that she could see. But a pair of elbow-length white gloves were draped over the headstand. And tucked into a box protruding from under the bedframe there appeared to be a set of neat white shoes.

"I trust you will find it an adequate fit. While I make no pretense at sartorial mastery, that does not prevent me from working with what is already available. I have manufactured this from another dress we had on hand that was… put to a different use." He smiled at this, eyes twinkling merrily. "However, I assure you the previous wearer will have no objection to your appropriating it."

While she had never been presented with anything so fine, Doll hesitated to touch the dress. She had an idea where that would lead, and the very idea was revolting. A quick glance confirmed there was no dressing curtain of any kind in the room. Did he expect her to…?

As she thought this, Sebastian removed a golden watch on a chain from his vest and flipped it open. "Of course, as a butler, I cannot assist in your enrobing, and we have no ladies maid available to fill the role. Therefore, though it may be offensive to suggest it, you must perform this function yourself."

He regarded the time critically. "I can spare you no more than ten minutes precisely. You should have some familiarity with putting on such a garment, as it follows roughly the same principles as your show uniform. Chemise first, then crinoline, followed by the dress. There is no bustle to speak of; I find that _noveau_ style laughably outrageous." He indicated to the materials in question. "Time being of the essence, I must leave you now. Do make haste. I shall knock before entering. Remember, ten minutes."

And just like that, he walked over and exited the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Open-mouthed, she stared after him. He simply… left?

I have ten minutes.

As quietly as possible, she ransacked the environs in search of something that might serve as a weapon or other means of escape. But to the captive's dismay, virtually nothing could be found here. She had assumed this room belonged to Bla… Sebastian, but the lack of anything resembling personal touches led her to doubt that. She completed her fruitless investigation in under two minutes. After this Doll just stood in the center of the room, lost and confused about what to do next.

A scratching sound came from the door. "Eight minutes," his muffled voice spoke.

Terror seized hold of her. If I don't put it on proper, what will he do to me? Almost as bad as going back in the closet was the thought of that monster laying his hands on her. I can't, please, not that, don't let it come to that!

In desperation Doll yanked off her clothes and threw them in a pile. It didn't take long to figure out the purpose of the various dress pieces, but getting them on proved frustratingly difficult. Her fingers seemed all thumbs, slipping and fumbling over the little straps and hooks.

Scratch. "Five minutes."

She cursed him under her breath as the ordeal wore on, but at last some semblance of reason appeared in the confusing maze of French muslin and silk before her. The chemise finally yielded to her persistent efforts, followed by the awkward crinoline. Trying to slide what felt like fifty pounds of dress on with this cloth-and-wire barrel around her waist almost drove her to tears.

"One minute."

There! Got it! Anything left to… shoes! I forgot the SHOES! And gloves!

Knock. Knock. Knock. "Please excuse me."

When Sebastian reentered those cramped confines, it was to find a gasping red-faced Doll yanking her gloves on clumsily. After this she merely stood there trying to catch her breath. The butler took a few moments to study her up and down. At last he gave a slow nod and pocketed his watch.

"I believe that will serve quite well. Now, if you would turn around for me?"

She obeyed, feeling numb and exhausted from that ordeal. It was too tiresome to even ask what he had in mind. Any thoughts of impending violation were dispelled when she felt him lace up the ties of her dress in back.

"There we are. Face front again, please."

Upon coming around Doll found herself being presented with what looked like a fan and a card of some kind.

"As you may have surmised," Sebastian beamed broadly at her, "we are moving on to a more dynamic form of social interaction, this being the dance. You will find these two items to be your sword and shield by which you might achieve victory on the field of battle, as it were. The fan is used to draw a gentleman's attention, and once you have lured him in, this dancing card shall serve as a binding social 'contract' between the two of you."

A very disturbing chuckle emerged from his throat as though he had made a witticism there. "A lady must dance with every partner on her card in the order that they are encountered. Barring physical ailment, there is no excuse to decline an invitation to dance. You will find this to be a most engaging activity. I am sure your experience with performing on the high-wire has prepared you physically. Only an education on the finer nuances is lacking."

Rather than handing them over to her, he then placed both items on the writing desk. "But, as it seems we have reached the limit of our collaboration together this evening, the actual lesson itself will have to wait until later."

So saying, Sebastian walked briskly towards the dresser.

Doll felt a shock travel up her spine when she realized what was about to happen. I didn't even try anything this time! Why is he putting me back in there? It's not fair!

"WAIT!" she heard herself gasp.

Just about to grasp the handle, the black-haired servant turned to regard her.

"Please… ye dun't have ta put me back there. I won't try to get away. Where would I go? I dun't even know where here is." She indicated around the Spartan room in a helpless manner, the dress rustling with every movement. Doll could hear her own heart beating fast as she strove to keep from going back into that gloom, even for a few seconds. "I know ye have yer reasons fer keepin' me here. Ye dun't have ta tell me what they are, I just… we both know I can't do anythin' to stop ye. So please… can't I just stay out here? Until ye need me?"

His eyebrows had lifted a fraction, giving him a look both quizzical and contemplative. Doll held her breath in anticipation. Would he really listen to her plea?

Sebastian's expression didn't change, as he slowly opened the cabinet door with a creak.

At this her resolve crumbled. _"WHY?!"_ the frantic ingénue demanded, growing more panicked at seeing the inside of that loathsome coffin. "Why are ye doin' all this? Dressin' me up, feedin' me bloody tea, wha… _what's the damn point of torturing me like this?!"_

His face did not alter a whit. He merely indicated for her to proceed in with a small sweep of his hand.

Doll was shaking without any means to stop. There were tears in her eyes, hating this man with such intensity…

And hating herself for what she was going to do next.

Breathing shakily, she bit her lip very hard for a moment.

Then, she reached up and, very slowly, began to slide the straps of the dress down her shoulders.

It was shameful, and humiliating, and every part of her was screaming to stop this. Doll had to force herself to keep going. She couldn't think of any other way. There was no point fighting him, or trying to run. This was the only tool she had left that might dissuade him from leaving her lost and alone again. I have to do it. There's no other way.

Across from her, the butler Sebastian heaved a sigh. "My, my," he clucked in admonishment. "To have a young lady behave in such a reprehensible fashion in front of me. I confess myself at a loss how to respond."

She was gritting her teeth, resisting the urge to shout at him for forcing her into this predicament. And still her hands continued to move the fabric down. He's just testing me. Seeing how far I'll go. If he wants this, I'll… give it… to him…

Her insides were churning, and she feared vomiting at any moment. Still he just continued to gaze at her sadly. Dammit, do _something,_ you monster!

"Although…" and here his eyes drifted off to the side as though in thought, "…your little friend Beast did respond most pleasantly during our night spent together."

Doll went stiff, fingers digging into her arms.

He looked back at her, a truly wicked smile on his face that held all the comfort of a bared knife. "Ah, but then, she needed the type of soothing only a man can give. And I'm afraid dear Joker simply didn't have it in him to provide even that much."

Her blood had turned to fire, heartbeat now a drum calling for murder, and Doll lunged forth with a shriek. _"YOU BLOODY SODDING BAS–!"_

A quick movement, a gentle push at the small of her back, and then the door slammed shut once more behind her.

For the longest time, all she could do was scream.

* * *

"… and for your pleasure, I have prepared dainty petit fours with buttercream fondant."

"Hmm." Ciel Phantomhive took a sip of tea as he watched his demon cohort settle in afternoon snacks. Sunlight was streaming through the windows of his study. A newspaper rested on the table which detailed the death of a prominent jeweler that had piqued his interest. However something of a more immediate nature had caught his attention.

"You seem rather enthusiastic today, Sebastian," the Earl pointed out.

His butler straightened upright. "Do I? Well, I had a very… invigorating time at it last night."

The look on his face caused a frown to descend on the young lordling's own. He settled his teacup back in the dish and regarded his servant sternly.

"Are you _still_ not finished with that? I would have thought by now it would be over and done with. Lingering over your pursuits is unseemly."

Sebastian adopted an innocent expression. "Surely my master would not deny me any preferences in how I conduct my private affairs. I assure you it in no way compromises my duties to you or the household, on that you have my word." The teensiest smirk adorned his perfect features now, and he spoke next in cloyingly sympathetic tones. "Or does the Earl still harbor some trace of sentiment over those proceedings? Such close conditions as you two worked under has been known to lead to such things; sharing the same bedcovers, and even a naked communion in the washroom! Really, what would the gossips think?"

The boy emitted a small growl at his familiar's flippancy. "I have no lingering sentiments, demon." He picked up the newspaper and brusquely snapped it open. "Take all the time you want playing with dolls. Just see that it doesn't get in the way of your job."

"As my lord commands."

With that the Phantomhive butler exited the room. Ciel tried to concentrate on today's headlines, but found his mood soured by the devil's ribbing somewhat more than usual. Instead he went for the petit fours eagerly. Their taste was absolutely exquisite, and he felt his spirits lift upon rolling the confection around his mouth.

Lounging back in his leather armchair, the Queen's Watchdog considered. There would no doubt be consequences over the events that took place at Kelvin Manor. Already Her Majesty had expressed veiled concerns about his competency which he would need to address as the bearer of his illustrious name. But besides this there was nothing to trouble the sleep of the Earl of Phantomhive. He had done the only right thing in that situation, and he sported no regrets.

Taking another bite, Ciel sighed in satisfaction.

None at all.

"CIEL!"

The doors of his study flew open, followed by an overly animated whirling dervish of foreign colors. The next thing he knew, Prince Soma was hopping excitedly up and down before his desk.

"Agni has taught me a secret chess move called 'castling'! With it I intend to destroy you in our next game! Let's play now! Agni, set up the board!"

" _Jo agna!"_ came the immediate response.

Ciel glared at his overly effervescent houseguests.

On second thought, I regret that there are too many idiots in my home today.

* * *

I won't go back.

Knees hugged tight to her chest, Doll floated aimlessly in the dark. After overcoming that wild fury, she had been tempted to tear off this constrictive clothing and let it disappear into the nothingness. Only a sense of profound weakness kept her from doing so. Clothes were the only thing she had left, and she clung to that last shred of dignity. Worse than being alone in hell was being naked at the same time. She just couldn't bear to face that.

More importantly, she had decided not to continue with these sick amusements. Not even in the slightest. So the next time Sebastian came for her, she would stay here. It was better than having that pervert play his games. Doll was resolved to remain where she could do no harm to her loved ones and no one could harm her. If he tried to take her out by force, she would fight him tooth and nail, force the butler to either kill her or leave her be. There would be no dancing, no tea, and no lessons. She just had to endure the loneliness. It was possible. She had been doing so up until now. Admittedly, it had not gotten any easier.

No… if I am honest with myself, it's gotten worse. Because knowing I can leave makes this more frightening by comparison. But maybe when I refuse to go out, it will become more bearable, if I'm not obsessing over escape. Someone might come to my rescue eventually.

I have to be strong.

When the light broke over her, Doll did not even look.

I don't care.

A hand was held out, but she ignored it. You don't control me. I choose to stay.

That white glove remained extended.

Go away!

Still it did not move.

I mean it! I'm not going anywhere with you this time! I'm not playing anymore! So just go away and leave me be!

She could almost hear him ask the question.

Are you sure?

Yes.

And with that, the hand began to withdraw.

He's leaving.

I won! I…

What if he never comes back?

This single thought was like a spark that started a bonfire of fear in her head.

If I refuse he'll never come back he'll leave me here alone and I'll never get out they'll forget about me and I won't be able to leave all alone by myself nothing and no one else forever and ever and it will never end never _all alone_ _forever._

"NO!"

She threw herself towards escape without any trace of restraint. Clutching fingers grasped onto that hand just before it vanished completely from sight. With a sob of utmost gratitude she felt his strong grip pull her out of the night and into the light.

Doll could not speak through the mixture of immense relief and rising self-loathing. She was actually clutching at Sebastian's pant leg, sobbing into his coat like a child.

"Now, now," he remonstrated her in a gentle voice. "We mustn't delay. I have prepared a private space for tonight, so let us away at once."

The archfiend drew her up and proceeded to lead Doll from the room. She was still so traumatized it barely registered that she was finally permitted out of that claustrophobic little chamber at long last. The best she could manage was to trod dully along clutching at his arm as Sebastian led them down hallways guided by the light of a single candle held in his free hand.

After a short while they reached an intricately carved white double door. Extracting his arm from her trembling clutch, the butler pushed open the portals and led them into a cleared ballroom. The ceiling-length curtains were drawn. All furniture had been pushed against the walls save for a single table in the middle of the floor. On this there could be found the only other source of light, a flickering candelabra whose long thin tapers sent up small wisps of smoke. Next to it there rested a music box with a tiny ballerina in mid-pirouette atop it. Shadows held court in the corners and everything visible had a soft orange glow to it.

The two of them approached the table where Sebastian negotiated putting down the candle and picking up the music box. He wound it several times before setting the little contrivance down. Immediately a tinny little tune began playing, and the ballerina took to spinning round her perch.

Still wearing his uniform, Sebastian turned to her with that same self-satisfied smile. "As you can see, your dance card is empty." He picked up the item in question from the table and showed it to her, as if to satisfy any curiosity on that score, before replacing it. "When the dance begins, a gentleman will escort you arm-in-arm to the floor. That prerequisite has been met, and so we may begin at any time. Listen to the music, if you would."

Doll looked over at the tiny figure spinning round and round, unable to stop so long as the music played. Just like me. I have to dance for him now like a little toy.

He was off again on one of his speeches. "There are a number of dances: the cakewalk, cotillion, galop, gavotte, quadrille, schottische, tarantella, and waltz. Some are partner dances, while others are single-person affairs. For today, I have chosen the schottische. It is a partner dance, which will allow me to help guide you through it. The beat is duple time, or two four time. This means there are two beats for every music bar, like so." He tapped his foot in rhythm to the song. "Do you hear it in the tune?"

She nodded once, eyes still locked on the mechanical dancer.

"Good." Sebastian took a few steps away from the table, forcing her to follow him along the parquetted wooden floor. At a point he stopped. The music could still be heard, faintly ringing throughout the ballroom.

"We start side-by-side, as we are now." He then took her slack hand and draped it around his waist, giving her wrist a pat as though to seal it there. His own black-clad limb went snaking around her midsection. The fingers gripped her side, and she shuddered absently. "Then both partners clasp their free hands together."

He held out his hand. Right away Doll took it. For some reason when she did, Sebastian made a 'tsk'-ing noise, almost like she had not performed up to his expectations. But immediately after he was speaking once more.

"Follow my lead. The schottische is comprised of four steps. First we have a forward step of the left foot."

He did so. A halting moment later, Doll followed.

"See how easy that was?" His voice made her shiver; it sounded so casual. The numbness was starting to go away. Once that happened, Doll knew she would start crying.

"Next slide your right foot up to join the left." This too he demonstrated and she copied. "Now once more forward on your left, and to complete the dance we take a fourth step which is a hop to bring both feet together!"

He drew them both to a halt. "The hop is repeated four times, upon which we return to the beginning and start all over again. Are you ready for the real thing now?"

Doll gazed at the floor. It was polished so she could see the two of them dimly reflected in the candlelight.

"How long do we have to do this?" she asked her mirror image distantly.

"Until the music ends. Then we will decide whether or not to–"

"Not the dancin'. I meant all this." She looked at him. The tears were dripping down her cheeks now. Doll could hardly see out of her good eye because of them, so she had no idea what his expression might be. Her own voice sounded hoarse and whispery, throat burning with restrained sobs. "How is it gonna end? Are ye gonna kill me?"

A part of her hoped he would say 'yes'. But instead all the butler did was reach up and gently wipe away her tears.

"There is no crying on the dance floor," he instructed her in a way that was almost kind. "Now, then," he once more took hold of her own gloved fingers, "we are wasting the music. Let us proceed. One-by-one and two-by-two, we go…"

Sebastian carried her in a circle around the candelabra table. Doll followed in time, stepping when required, hopping the next. She kept her eye fixated on the ghostly girl dancing at her feet. That one's face looked curiously dead, as if unaware any of this was happening to her, and if it was she couldn't care less. That's good. Just turn off your heart, little doll. Don't feel anything at all anymore. That way you'll be safe. The tune went on and on, the two girls dancing, the two men leading.

Strangely enough, out of the corner of her eye, it almost appeared as if the butler was looking at her. And his face was anything but blank. In fact, it was going dark with displeasure. Why? Aren't I performing the dance right? Isn't this what you wanted? Not that it would matter if I didn't. You'd just put me back in the black place again. It doesn't matter what I do.

Step-step-step-hop. Hop four times. _Ding-ding-ding_ went the notes. The chimes were slowing. Their procession followed. Step. Step. Step. Step-hop. Hop some more. And as it went, Sebastian's angry eyes narrowed further in the floor's reflection. His lips parted, revealing sharp white teeth.

It doesn't matter.

 _Ding… ding… ding…_

Step… step… ho–

The sound stopped. And the butler…

… changed.

It wasn't a man there anymore. Just something huge and black and twisted, like the whole room behind her had turned into a monster. Reflected in the floor were winding coils, tattered shapes, reaching out to caress the other girl's neck in an intrusion she could feel. And… and there was a mouth, opening wide. The teeth were so sharp. So sharp, as they moved in to her throat, about to sink in…

Doll closed her eye.

Yes.

 _Ding._

A single note broke the stillness, the grinding gears in the music box making one last heroic effort to sing. It echoed through the empty room sweet and clear as crystal.

She had never heard anything so beautiful. It made Doll's chest hurt, and she sobbed.

"I believe that will suffice for now."

Blinking rapidly, her eye opened. Gazing back at her from the polished surface were the girl and the butler again. As she watched, he moved away. Doll looked up in time to see Sebastian put out the candelabra with a beautiful black and gold candle extinguisher he had produced from somewhere. Picking up the lone guttering wick, he returned to her side and proceeded to escort her from the dance floor.

As they walked, the former circus star wondered at what she had seen. A hallucination? A fever dream? Could I be sick and not know it? Might all that has happened be just a fantasy cooked up by my diseased blood?

No. One thing she did know for certain, and that was she couldn't bring herself to look at Sebastian right now out of sheer heartfelt dread. It was this that let her understand none of it was a dream.

Before she knew it they were back in that room. The butler had opened the cabinet wide and now stood aside for her to enter. Obediently she lifted her dress in preparation to take the first step.

As her foot cleared the frame, however, his hands came down around her shoulders.

"A moment."

Doll stood frozen in that position, foot hanging over the edge of oblivion, single eye wide and body gone cold under his touch. She almost wanted to go into the dark if it meant him not touching her.

"I thought you might like to know," he murmured absently while toying with the lace of her collar, "that one of your troupe has followed you here."

Her mouth fell open slightly, and a faint sound emerged.

"The one called Snake. He sniffed us out and is now working under our direction with the hopes of locating you and the rest of your comrades. Do bear this in mind from now on."

Doll spun about. "WHA–?"

His hands let go. Off balance, she fell backwards and out of sight. Smiling once again, Sebastian closed the cabinet behind her and went to go clean up.

* * *

"I finished polishing the dance room floor like you asked, Mr. Sebastian!" Mei-Rin the maid sprang upright as the butler came in to inspect her progress. There were smudges of grease across her sweating brow which she seemed unaware of, and her uniform was in unforgivable disarray. But by way of a minor miracle, the polish did appear to be concentrated largely on the floor where it belonged. And it wasn't even shoe polish! Progress, indeed!

"Well done, Mei-Rin," he spoke encouragingly. She flushed at this praise, clutching her cheeks seemingly unaware that doing so spread even more wax over them. Oh, well. One cannot expect too much from too little.

"Phew! Smell that stuff from across the Atlantic, I'll bet!" The chef Balderoy was passing through the main entryway but came to inspect the work, his arms loaded with bouquets of fragrant flowers. Their scent seemed to fill the air, competing with that of the polish.

"I can see my face in the floor!" Finny exclaimed ecstatically as he came bounding up, also carrying flowers with the new servant Snake trundling after. "Hello, Finny Underfoot!" The simple-minded gardener laughed and waved back at himself with joyful eyes, fronds spilling out of his arms.

Crowded together in the door, Sebastian heaved a sigh. He managed to extricate himself from the two nitwits and turned to address their subdued footman, who had held back. "Snake, if you will carry those into the foyer, I will begin arranging them to Lady Elizabeth's tastes. We must needs act accordingly with the future lady of the household's wishes."

The heads of several serpents waved from around his frame as Snake gave a nod in understanding. It was a relief not to have to deal with catastrophic pratfalls from this one, at least. Sebastian gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as he went by to attend to other details for the visit.

As he did, Snake stiffened. The flowers went spilling out onto the floor…

"Snake!" Mei-Rin looked up, startled.

… as he snatched hold of Sebastian's arm.

The other servants watched, aghast. As for the butler himself, he made no move, simply regarding their latest hire with mild amazement. "Is something amiss, Snake?"

Those slit-pupil eyes rose to train on him, wide and furious. "You smell like her!" he whispered. "You smell like _Doll_ … says Emily!" The snake in question slithered upright to wave hypnotically on his shoulder, a deadly hiss accompanying its two-legged comrade's accusation. More of his cold-blooded companions rose to do the same, until many sets of carnivorous eyes now fixed on the butler. All members of the Phantomhive household remained frozen in that tableau for several seconds.

Then Sebastian glanced down at his arm and looked up. "Ah. I believe I see the issue. This particular coat has not seen use in some time, since our sojourn infiltrating Noah's Ark circus. I was letting it air out due to some distressing odors, but perhaps some measure of your missing comrades' aromas still lingers in the fibers."

This seemed to make their new footman uncertain. "Yes… they're all there. But…" His eyes narrowed. "Doll's is _stronger… fresher,_ says Wordsworth!"

Still the butler made no move to disengage. Instead he spoke in measured, patient tones that in no way betrayed any dissatisfaction at this predicament. "As to that, I spent more time in the company of Doll… or Freckles, as we knew her, than any of the others owing to her sharing a tent with my master. Besides this, I may offer no further explanation to you, Snake."

Perhaps it was his calm demeanor at being manhandled like this, but whatever the case, Snake hesitated before finally withdrawing his hand. "I'm… sorry. It's just… there hasn't been any word in so long, and there are so many strong smells in the air today, so when I caught the scent, I…" He hung his fair head then, shoulders slumping. "I regret my presumption, says Emily."

"No apologies necessary, from either of you." He nodded at both the snake and her handler. "I understand your distress completely."

The scaly youngster immediately bent to start picking up the flowers. Nodding in approval, Sebastian then turned to regard the other three bemused servants. "As for the rest of you, that's enough lollygagging about! I'm sure you all appreciate how hard it is to adjust to new surroundings, especially after having lost loved ones."

They all flinched at this reminder. Bard scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, while Mei-Rin twisted her polish rag between both hands. It was a sad-eyed Finny who came forward and bent to help pick up the scattered stalks. "It's alright, Snake," their tow-headed gardener mumbled. "We'll help you out until you're comfortable here! Ummm… I hope you find your friends!"

"I didn't mean to overreact, says Emily," Snake spoke in his odd second-hand manner. "It's just Doll would sometimes play with us. She was never afraid we might bite her. The rest of our circus family seemed uncomfortable around us at times, but not her. She always made everyone feel welcome, says Webster."

The incident passed without further remark. Meanwhile the butler considered this unexpected turnabout. He had indeed let this particular uniform air out for a long time to rid it of the scent of smoke after burning down Kelvin Manor. Fortunate that there was no need to lie on his part.

As they all returned to their duties, however, Sebastian took note of the Earl standing on the second floor balcony above them. Their eyes met, and Ciel gave a disapproving frown before spinning away.

To this Sebastian merely sighed and went on with his work.

* * *

She practically grabbed his arm off this time. Upon reentering the world, Doll looked up into the face of her tormenter. "Please let me speak to him."

He didn't ask who she meant. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered either way. Sebastian simply led her over to another little table he had set up.

"When entering the dining room for a dinner party, the lady is always escorted by a gentleman according to the rank of those present." He pulled back the chair and guided her down. Disoriented, she sat with hands clenched in her lap. Before her was an empty soup plate on a dish with a host of cutlery to either side. A steaming soup tureen dominated the remaining space beside which were arranged other covered dishes. Doll felt hungry then for the first time in ages.

"Memorize this arrangement precisely, now. To the right of the plate, going from outside in, we have: oyster fork nestled in the bowl of the soup spoon, then fish knife, meat knife, and finally fruit or salad knife. " He pointed out the neat rows of utensils in turn. "Left of the plate, again, outside in: fish fork, meat…"

Doll watched his hand flow over the expensive cutlery. Until now she hadn't allowed herself to think too much about the events of their last meeting. The revelation he dropped on her afterwards was just so monumental. Or perhaps what she had seen that night simply proved too frightening to contemplate when trapped in the dark. It might have driven her mad. But now that she was back, the truth reared up like a snake to bite her.

"Yer not human, are ye?" she asked him, already knowing the answer.

"…salad or fruit fork. The silverware is arranged in the order which it is used, depending on what dishes you will be enjoying. Salad is eaten last, as you can see. Now, then…" She could hear him smile behind her. "We are going to have a little test. Sit up straight, please."

She did. Something fell over her eye, and Doll gasped, nails digging into the arms of her chair. Involuntarily she reached up a hand to touch it only to have him catch hold of her wrist. The girl whimpered.

"Ah, ah! No peeking."

Whatever it was proved soft and in no way painful. A blindfold, she realized at last. The fabric wound around her head and she felt him tie a secure but not too snug knot in back. Laces tickled the top of her spine. Her hand fell back into her lap.

"Now, if you would be so good, please recite the order of the utensils, starting from the left and going to the right."

Blind, Doll sat rigid in her chair.

A faint rustle of movement at her shoulder, and then…

 _C-r-e-e-e-a-k…_

The sound of the cabinet door opening came to her ears, unbearably loud.

"Fish fork…" she moaned in dread.

Silence.

 _C-r-e-e-e-a-k…_

It shut.

"Continue."

"Meat fork, salad or fruit…" Her hands and feet were icy cold. She shook without stop as though afflicted with the palsy. "…oyster fork in the… soup spoon."

"Bravo! Well done!" He clapped lightly to applaud her performance. "Leave it on."

This last came when she was just about to reach up and remove the blindfold. Instead she went completely still. More sound of movement. A faint ringing of metal, and a liquid splashing. The smell of something hot and delicious now claimed all her senses.

When the blindfold came off, her bowl was full of steaming soup.

"A crisp chestnut soup for the lady. Warm and nourishing, perfect for this cold weather we're experiencing!"

Her stomach rumbled without warning, and inexplicably, Doll felt her face go hot.

"I understand you must be famished, but bear in mind, etiquette must be observed especially in the face of our more baser impulses. So let us learn the proper way to eat."

Left to her own devices she would have fallen on it then and there without regard for propriety. Instead his instructions started coming, like one brick after another falling down to build a wall between her and the meal. There was so much more than just putting it in your mouth. Do not blow on soup. Scoop soup away from yourself, sip from side of spoon, not straight in. Garnishes go on with spoon, extra goes to bread plate. Place spoon on edge of plate when finished, handle to the right.

Part of her was listening. But another part had retreated from the game, and thus could observe and speculate at leisure.

I think I finally figured out what he's doing. Dressing me up. Serving me tea. Making me dance and eat. Those are all things you do with a…

Doll.

He's playing with me like I'm a doll.

Sebastian let her have a few mouthfuls of the soup, and no more. _That's enough, don't want to spoil your appetite._ Baked cod smothered in bread crumbs came next with a bit of lime sprinkled on. _Pick up the fork only after your host has done so._ Braised breast of pheasant followed the same rules as other game. _Cut a bite of meat, eat it, then cut another bite._ Beef Wellington, a truly patriotic dish. _Fork tines facing down, food balanced on the back as you bring it to your lips._ Veal Prince Orloff. _So named for the Russian ambassador plenipotentiary to France._ Potatoes Lyonnaise. _When possible, use a fork to cut food instead of a knife._ And finally, Mousse au Chocolat. _Your host will put their napkin to the left of their plate to signal the meal is over. Be careful not to refold or crumple it._

Doll ate as much as she could, which still didn't feel like enough. Then Sebastian pulled out her seat, and she stood up. For a moment the various metal implements gleamed before her, whispering promises of what she could do with them. _Cut the doll's strings,_ they seemed to say. _Do it quickly. End the puppet show. What else is there?_

She traced a finger over their sharp edges.

I can't.

 _Why?_

Snake's here. And the others, they…

 _You stupid little girl. They're dead. Your family is dead. Jumbo, Dagger, Beast; the Earl had them all killed long ago. You just haven't wanted to admit it out loud, deluding yourself into thinking they might be safe and coming to rescue you. He's saving you for last._

Ciel doesn't even remember I exist. It's just the butler. The demon. He's controlling this. I have to hold out. As long as he's playing with me, getting whatever it is he wants from me…

 _What?_

It means he's not doing it to anyone else.

… _are you sure?_

The moment passed. Behind her she knew the cabinet was open with Sebastian waiting expectantly beside it. Doll turned about and, hands behind her back and keeping her eye firmly locked on the floor, proceeded over to what she now knew was a dollhouse. How many other girls might he have in there? No way to tell. We could all be inside next to one another in that empty space and never know it.

She drew abreast of him, lifting a hand to grasp the frame before entering…

 _Ping._

Immediately Sebastian's eye was drawn to the source of this noise, finding it to be a small oyster fork skittering across the floor.

He gave a blink. Glancing down, the butler observed a meat knife plunged up to the hilt in his heart.

"Ah, me," he spoke with a sigh. Reaching down, the black-garbed entity pulled this fatal instrument free and held it up, observing the blood dripping down its length. He then looked at the girl standing before him. Her face had crumpled in grief, as though learning the answer to a question she had long dreaded knowing. That single visible eye was brimming with tears. He could feel her soul throbbing fit to burst.

Well worth the price of a shirt.

Sebastian then guided her back inside, before starting his duties for the day.

* * *

'… _going to be so delightful! I simply cannot wait until it is my turn to go sailing somewhere far away with you, my graceful dolphin!_

 _Yours always,_

 _Elizabeth Midford'_

A stifled snicker caused Ciel to raise his head and glare at the shadowy figure standing off to his left. Sebastian maintained impeccable posture with both hands behind his back, but the smile never left his face. "I trust Lady Elizabeth will be pleased at finding you will join her on an ocean cruise, my lord."

"Far more than I am." The disgruntled aristocrat dropped the letter onto his desk with a groan. Picking up a pen, he continued with his correspondence. Without looking up he asked, "Have we learned anything more about this Aurora Society?"

"Lao has pledged to provide us with inside information. We have a week before the _Campania_ sets sail. 'Til then our industrious hounds will sniff out any items of value."

"Hmm." Earl Phantomhive scribbled in silence for a few more seconds. "How has Snake been adapting? Were there any more incidents like before?"

"No, my lord. I now take precautions to prevent any such debacles from happening again."

The pen halted.

"So she's still alive."

"Indeed." The impious actor took note of his master's bearing. His smile now became sly to behold, and he continued in a lighthearted manner. "His Lordship will recall that I enjoy building up an appetite prior to gustation. It serves to bring out the flavor of the meal." The words he spoke held a tone of wicked relish. "Of course you understand, after having restrained myself for so long, I may need more than just the entrée when it comes time to sate my cravings. Something sweet and delectable for dessert should do the trick."

The contractor made no response to this. Close at hand there was a silver tray bearing an artfully arranged mound crafted from several varieties of truffles. Reaching out, Ciel plucked one off the top.

"Sebastian."

The butler turned. "My lord?"

The Earl sat at his desk, rolling the dark red chocolate slowly between his fingers. His eye remained locked on this cocoa-dusted goody with a sort of lingering admiration. "I don't want your leftovers spoiling here for any of the other servants to sniff out while we're gone." The Earl looked directly at his confederate. "Make an end of it before we go." He then popped the chocolate into his mouth.

Sebastian's overall demeanor grew cool. At the same time, though, he gave a bow.

"As my lord commands."

The butler departed shortly thereafter to continue with his chores. Meanwhile the master of the house remained behind, eye closed in decadent bliss. For just this short time, with sweet chocolate melting on his tongue, there could be absolutely nothing wrong in the world. He helped himself to the remaining truffles, savoring every single one.

When they were all gone, it surprised him how disappointed he felt.

* * *

You know what he wants. You know what this is all about.

It's got nothing to do with the playtime and the dresses and dancing. Those are just how he wiles away the hours. By then the most important part for him has already passed. That's why he doesn't care if you get any of it right or not, or even try and attack him.

It's that moment when you reach out and take his hand.

That's what he takes away from all this. The desperation, the need, the longing; everything that compels you to grasp hold of whatever farfetched escape presents itself, especially knowing it can't do any lasting good. Doesn't matter if you realize that. In fact, it just makes it sweeter for him. Every time, you still take his hand. Because you can't help but pray something good will come of it. And he feeds off of that. He was going to kill you only when it looked like you had given up all hope. But you got it back at the last second, and he held off. Now he's waiting to see if you'll keep on doing it.

If I stop taking his hand, maybe I can finally die.

* * *

Ciel stared coldly at the display stand in front of him, then looked up to regard its presenter. "What is this?"

"Candy, obviously!" Prince Soma appeared taken aback at his ignorance. "I tried some in London, and it was so wondrous I simply had to come and share it with you! You really don't know something this amazing exists in your own country? For shame!" The Indian nobleman tutted and wagged his head in a supercilious manner.

For his part the lord of the manor could have strangled his foreign counterpart. "I know what it is! I run a _candy company!"_ He snatched up one of the items in question and thrust it before Soma's nose. "This is one of my _products,_ in case you didn't notice!"

Soma peered closer. There was indeed the name 'Funtom' written on the wrapper. He puzzled over this revelation for a moment before turning to huddle conspiratorially with his seneschal Agni. "Should I tell him they misspelled his name?" he whispered.

"If Earl Phantomhive has not noticed, perhaps it might be best not to mention it, Highness," the towering servant murmured with heartfelt concern. "Such a personal failure would only serve to further inflame his ill humor."

"Hmmm… but isn't it my duty as his friend to point out any errors in judgement? Especially since his remaining eyesight is obviously so poor!"

"Indeed, Highness! You are the very height of virtue as usual! We must allow no slander to attach to another nobleman's illustrious name, no matter how poorly mistranslated it may be!"

Five feet away, the person in question had gone livid with fury, mouth agape and tendons standing out in his neck. He could only manage a choked gurgling in place of the Queen's English.

"Well, never fear, Ciel," Soma declared with a cheerful grin as he whirled about from his not-so-private conference. "I'm sure this is just karma for something wrong you did in a past life! People probably still know it's you anyway. But maybe you should have something more recognizable on the label? Like an eyepatch! No chance of getting that wrong, yes? And there are plenty of methods available to atone for your previous incarnation's mistakes. I recommend–"

"GET OUT!"

There next followed a great confusion of raised voices and impassioned declarations of camaraderie as Sebastian moved to show their visitors the way home.

Back in his reading room, an incensed Ciel collapsed into an armchair, feeling equal parts offended and foolish. He shouldn't have overreacted like that; it showed lack of control and bad manners, both deadly to a gentleman's reputation. There was no real way Soma could have known anyway.

On the display stand before him was a set of flavored lollipops bearing the Funtom Company brand.

' _I'm sure this is just karma for something wrong you did…'_

The prince's words intruded into his thoughts once more. Angrily the Earl pushed them aside. He had more pressing matters to concern himself. They had to prepare for the Campania investigation. More importantly, Lizzy would be on that ship. The safety of his fiancée and her family must be ensured. Should this Aurora Society prove dangerous, he would see to her protection personally.

' _Just gimme a holler if'n ye need help with somethin'. Oh! Ye want a candy? These be the best, Funtom brand!'_

The Earl glared at the confections as though they had offended him somehow.

' _I won't be tellin' on ye, but don't go stealin' again, Smile!'_

He picked up his ledger and began reading the report once more.

' _Yer sayin'… it was all a lie?!'_

Giving a frustrated curse, Ciel slammed shut the book. Seething, he looked around for something sugary to help settle his mood, but only the unpleasant candy sticks were close at hand.

So what? I won't let myself be reminded of something trivial every time I look at them. My home, my choice, my world. It's as simple as that.

To prove this, the Queen's Watchdog picked a candy off its perch. Unwrapping the lolly, he resolutely jammed it in his mouth with all the grace of a hungry dog attacking a bone.

It tasted so sickeningly sweet he immediately spit it out. The candy gleamed stickily on the carpet, mocking him with its existence.

' _We're even now! Okay?'_

Wrong. I have nothing to feel guilty for. I did my duty. We'll be gone in two days. Sebastian will no doubt put it off until the last night, to build up an appetite. When I return, everything will be long settled. It's no more my concern. And it never really was. The damned go to hell. I make no attempt to deny that.

Maybe she'll save me a seat.

* * *

I can't.

I just can't do it. Joker, Beast, everyone, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry, Snake. If I don't do it, he may kill me, sure, but… like I first thought, he could just leave me here instead. And I couldn't take that. I can't stand being lost here forever. I did bad things, but is that all that counts? Didn't I do anything right? So why should I only be punished forever? We just kidnapped them and took them to the same workhouse we went to. I don't know what for, but…

Whatever. If God doesn't want anything to do with me… I'll just pray for you guys.

She said a prayer, then. For Beast and Joker. Dagger, Jumbo, Peter and Wendy. The people she knew would never stop caring about her.

Please don't abandon me.

The door opened then, and his hand reached in for her.

Not again.

She took it, of course. There was no other choice, she had to–

His grip yanked roughly. Startled, Doll came spilling out into the world. On her knees, she stared at the floor, completely bewildered.

A tiny clicking sound came to her ears. When she looked up, Ciel Phantomhive was pointing a derringer pistol at her head.

"Do you want to die?"

His voice was completely cold.

She stared in horror at the little black barrel with its promise of death, then up at him.

"No?" the girl whimpered shakily.

His eye narrowed, and he gave a snort of disgust. Then he moved around Doll, a thick cloak draped over one arm now settling around her shoulders. He fixed the clasp, then pulled the hood up over her head. A heavy aroma of Lily of the Valley came with the garment, so strong it nearly choked her.

"Get up."

She did so, clambering awkwardly upright. In a flash he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the open door and the hallway beyond. The other hand with the derringer went into his coat pocket. Doll stumbled along at his side, uncertain of what this might mean. Where was Sebastian?

"I've sent him on an errand," the Earl spoke as though reading her mind. "It'll keep him occupied for several hours. Even when he comes back, I'll tell Sebastian not to pursue. He has to obey me."

He certainly sounded confident. But a part of her thought, if you're so sure he'll obey you, why are you sneaking around behind his back?

Just who was it that served whom here?

"Where are we goin'?"

"Move!" he snarled, increasing his pace. Nothing more was said for a while. They proceeded in silence through the darkened manor. It was not the same route to the ballroom. That much she could be reasonably certain of. Instead they went up flights of stairs and down passages, until at last Ciel opened a small door which brought them out into an arched hallway. A rumble of thunder could now be heard. There was a storm on the way.

Am I… getting out?

Thank you.

"Thank'ye."

Pausing, Ciel turned to regard her. Even in the dim light, there was so much anger in his face it made Doll cringe. "Shut up," he growled. "I don't want you in my home. I don't even want your corpse on my grounds! When you leave this place you will never come back, understand?"

Caught between hope and fear, a thought suddenly came to her. "Snake… what about…?"

"He'll never know you were here. If you try to contact him, I'll kill you both."

They remained staring at one another for a few moments. At last Doll's head slowly fell, and she gave a miserable nod.

"Good." He took her hand again and led them down the corridor. "There's a carriage outside. Get as far away as you can. I don't ever want to see–"

As Ciel took his first step into the grand entry hall of the manor, a flash of lightning briefly lit the whole room. Doll gave a quick gasp, huddling fearfully against his back.

Standing in the middle of the floor was the butler Sebastian.

Nobody moved.

"Is something amiss, my lord?"

That easy pleasant voice made her heart quail. We're done. We're done. He's going to kill us both.

"She's leaving, Sebastian."

The thunder cracked loudly, almost seeming to make the walls shake. Doll merely shut her eye and sobbed, face pressed into Ciel's small shoulder. It was just another game he let us play. We're trapped. There's no way out. It'll never end.

Rain was lashing the windows. The hand holding the pistol started to emerge from Ciel's pocket, then stopped as he seemed to reconsider. Instead the Earl dropped the firearm back in and reached up to grasp his eyepatch, beginning to lift it clear.

"This is an or–"

"Of course, my lord. Will there be anything else this evening?"

With that the demon servant stepped to one side and bowed, gesturing with his arm towards the front door.

Ciel regarded his accomplice warily. He had expected some measure of complaint. This obedience, while nothing new, smacked of falsehood. And yet, Sebastian couldn't stop them. He had to follow the rules of the contract. It was the only thing you could depend on in their relationship.

"Let's go." He took Doll's hand, only to find she wouldn't move, still hunched in on herself like a mouse paralyzed by a cobra. About to resort to force, Ciel hesitated upon noticing the way she shook from suppressed sobs. Momentarily at a loss, the boy finally bent in and whispered gently in her ear. "Doll, come on."

That worked. After a few seconds the spasms began to subside. Her good eye fluttered open, appearing to recognize him. He took her hand then, at which she gave a start for some reason, but followed obediently behind as he led her toward the mansion's front door.

Sebastian went ahead of them to open the portal. A windy night greeted their eyes, rusty clouds offering a pale red luminescence to the sky. Wind-whipped treetops stood out blackly against it. An ornately appointed coach waited in the yard below, with a heavily bundled driver hunched in front and a pair of horses stamping the muddy ground restlessly.

Doll gripped his sleeve tightly, terrified eye riveted to Sebastian as they passed. The butler made no attempt to impede them. His face held neither outrage nor dissatisfaction at this turn of events. He simply watched them go as though performing another part of his daily routine.

Ignoring the lashing rain, the Earl of Phantomhive led his trembling charge up to the cab. The driver bent down to open the door for them. Ciel then helped her up the steps. When she sat down, the gate closed behind her.

Doll stared out the window. Briefly her lone eye met that of the Earl of Phantomhive. Rain poured down his face so that for one absurd moment it looked like he was crying. And she knew then with a cold pit of certainty that he was trapped too. He had shown her the way out, while he remained behind. With the demon. With Sebastian. She didn't know what it was that bound them together, but there could be no doubt that it would not end well for him. That much she was certain of. For just a second Doll thought about pulling him into the cab with her and yelling for the driver to speed on, leave that monstrous manor and its infernal guard dog far behind. Or at least thank him once again.

There was no time even for any words of gratitude to be exchanged, however, as Ciel quickly spun about and went stalking back inside his mansion.

A flick of the reins, and the coach lurched forward. Doll turned her head as the house began to pull away. Another flash of lightning came then that illuminated everything bright as day.

Standing framed in the entryway, the butler in black watched her go.

The dark closed in again, momentarily blinding her. Shuddering, Doll jerked away and sank against the richly cushioned interior.

Back at the house, Sebastian did not hesitate to step inside and shut the door behind him.

* * *

The coach rattled and rumbled over the muddy lane. It was raining so hard now the track was more a quagmire, but never once did the wheels become bogged down. Instead they practically flew through the night.

Doll had collapsed against the interior of the cab. She might have slept. It was hard to tell. When she looked out the window, it was still dark out. Thunder continued to rumble, but it seemed to be getting farther away. Lightning flashed intermittently now. There was no measure of familiarity in the surroundings flying past. The fugitive pulled the hood down around her shoulders to get a better look.

Rushing trees. Bushes. An owl on the wing. All familiar sights which she had never expected to see again in her life.

I'm out. I got away. I'm safe.

Thank God.

Another flash of lightning came, allowing her a better view for the briefest possible moment. Eagerly pressing her nose to the glass, Doll saw her own face staring back.

In the reflection, something stirred behind her.

"My, my. Such dreadful weather."

Her heart nearly stopped. Her eye shut. With a piteous moan, she scrunched desperately into the corner of the carriage, trying to get as far away as possible.

Sitting on the bench beside her, Sebastian glanced out the opposite window.

"My master has a soft heart which he takes great pains to hide," the demon supplied conversationally, crimson eyes drifting across the speeding terrain. "Not the most aggravating trait he possesses, and certainly nothing I cannot compensate for. How could I be the butler of the Phantomhive household if not, after all?"

She made no response. Doll merely huddled into a ball, crying in soft little gasps that hardly made a sound and hurt like a knife in her stomach with every breath.

"I am bound to serve him, this much is true. He often makes unreasonable demands which I must perforce obey. However the young master remains woefully ignorant regarding my own position's demands."

Thunder shook the heavens. He turned his head and looked at the girl crouched in the corner, a terrible smile on his handsome face.

"But you know, don't you? Something, once given to me, can _never_ be taken away. I might let it fly a distance off to stretch its wings, but in the end, it will always return to whom it belongs. Is that not so?"

And so saying, he held out his hand.

Doll continued to cry blindly. For a time there was only the pounding of the horse's hooves, the rattling of the carriage, and the wind howling through the leaves.

Then, without even looking up, she slowly placed her hand in his.

"Excellent."

The embodiment of evil reached out to brush away the hair from her face, exposing the ruined mass of scar tissue, freckled cheeks streaked with tears, teeth gritted in striving not to cry out at his touch.

"My delightful little doll."

Sebastian leaned in and placed a deceptively soft kiss on the damaged left eye. A sound came from deep within her chest. At that he let go, and she cradled the arm against her breast as though it had been burned.

"My contract with the young master has not yet expired. But when it does, rest assured I shall come for you. Until that time I expect you to keep yourself fit and healthy for our next appointment. For it will be the final lesson I give you. I do look forward to when that time comes."

She made no acknowledgement of this. But he was satisfied nonetheless. This would have to do. "Well, then. I must needs bid you adieu. A butler's work is never done. And I am one hell of a butler."

At this, Doll was once again alone in the carriage.

* * *

It might have been hours later when the vehicle finally slowed and stopped. The rain had ceased. Even so, those red rolling clouds still loomed menacingly overhead.

The driver got down and patted his steaming steeds affectionately. He then trotted over and opened the passenger door. "Time to get out, my lady!"

Nothing moved in the carriage.

He peered in curiously. "Are you awake?"

No reply.

A slight 'tsk'-ing sound escaped his lips. One hand came up, holding a small item.

"Can I interest you in a candy?"

Silence.

Then a small pale hand rose and hesitantly accepted this gift. At finding signs of life at last, the driver offered his support to exit the vehicle, which Doll accepted. Groggily, like a prisoner stumbling forth after years in the cells, she splashed out onto the sodden track, mud getting on her expensive shoes, dressed in a ladies gown and clutching what turned out to be a slightly cracked lollipop, still in its wrapper.

"Strawberry-flavored, I believe."

Uncertainly she looked up at the man beside her. He was tall and thin, swathed in thick black robes that made him practically a part of the landscape. But his skin was shockingly white, so too the absolute wealth of hair that poured down his shoulders in bundles and braids like spun silver. His eyes were hidden by untamed bangs, and a rumpled black top-hat crowned his head. This bizarre figure smiled down at her with an expression of eager amusement.

"I saved that particular one from the fiasco at Kelvin Manor. Eat it or keep it as a keepsake, as is your want. I also offer you a small token." A heavy little bag was held out by the strings clenched between two long-nailed fingers. Doll took it, and upon drawing the ties her astonished eye was met with a mound of polished silver coins that gleamed even in this poor light.

"And finally, do take this."

When she looked up it was to find the driver presenting her with what looked to be a business card. It was too dark to read what might be written on it, but this she accepted without complaint as well.

"Keep it upon your person in case anything irreparably fatal should occur," that eerie figure giggled. "It will let anyone in my profession know that I have called first dibs on the remains. I very much look forward to our future collaboration."

After what seemed like ages she finally got her tongue to work. "Why are ye doin' this?" Doll asked faintly.

At that, the driver's smile grew even bigger. "Let's just say I have a thing for dolls. And so…"

He sprang backwards to land in the driver's seat. "Hup!" The silver-haired phantom gave a light flick of the reins, at which point the carriage lurched forward again, drawn by the seemingly tireless horses.

Doll watched it pull away. A short distance off, she observed the driver doff his hat in a grandiose manner.

"As a certain comedian once said… if you gotta go, go with a smile! 'Til next time!"

After a while that strange transport disappeared into the pall of night, leaving only the sound of its departure. Eventually that too faded away.

The girl called Doll looked at her gifts, then all around. She was alone, in the middle of nowhere. Forest and fields stretched out to either side of the road. The whole entire country was laid out for her, when only hours ago, her world had been restricted to a cabinet and a tiny featureless room.

The comparison didn't fool her. She wasn't free. It just meant her box was a bit bigger. The only difference was how much distance she could put between herself and _him._

With that, she began to walk down the side of the road. Where to? The workhouse, maybe, where their remaining brethren were? That's the first spot anyone who knew her would go looking. But no… not that place. There were things going on which she had no understanding of. Her days were numbered. The end could come at any time, and in a way that made her shiver at the mere thought. And yet, to her immense surprise, and even after everything which had happened, she still found herself… hopeful.

Maybe something will change. I might find a way to escape. It's not impossible. I've been given a second chance. Maybe I can do something good with it, to make up for all I did, ere the end comes.

Much to Doll's surprise, she found herself wishing for Earl Ciel Phantomhive to have a very long life.

 _ **FIN.**_


End file.
